The Saiyan Graduate
by Tina Lang
Summary: B/V get-together: What happens when Vegeta falls for Bulma, but she finds out about his involvement with her mother, Mrs. Briefs?
1. Saiyan Graduate Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or the Graduate, but I love them both!!! (And I think a young Dustin Hoffman would make a GREAT Vegeta, don't you?!)  
  
  
  
The Saiyan Graduate  
  
Vegeta scowled.  
  
He didn't want to be here. In this large, dome-shaped building. On this fucking, Kami-foresaken planet.  
  
But he had no where else to go.  
  
He acted as though he was doing the Briefs a favor by staying at their house. As though they should be honored to have him as a guest, when, in reality, if they hadn't taken him in, he had no idea where he'd be right now.  
  
Probably with that fool, Kakkarot, he thought with a shudder.  
  
There was nothing left for him in space, now that Freeza was dead. His only goal, since he had first been given to the evil lizard-like transvestite, had been to destroy Freeza, to kill him with his own bare hands, and bring his reign of terror to an end.  
  
And then take over Freeza's empire, creating a new reign of terror to exact revenge on anyone and everyone who had ever stood against the Saiyans.  
  
But it had all come crashing down around him. Everything was gone. Freeza had killed him, then Kakkarot had become Super Saiyan, killing Freeza. Then Vegeta had accidentally been resurrected by the baka humans and their stupid dragon balls, and had ended up here, on the earth, the lousiest mudball of a planet he had ever seen.  
  
After going on a fruitless search for Kakkarot, then coming back to earth only to see some snot-nosed young purple-haired brat slice Freeza up as though he were a loaf of bread, Vegeta had lain in his bed in the guest room at Capsule Corp, and had a revelation.  
  
The universe was a very fucked up place.  
  
He had lost his pride to Kakkarot, and even that blasted boy was able to turn Super! So why couldn't he? He was the fucking Prince of all Saiyans! He should have been the first fucking Super Saiyan, and should have been able to destroy Freeza on his own!  
  
But things were looking up for him. He would train harder than he had ever trained before, and in three years when the androids came, he would beat their asses into the ground, turn Super Saiyan, and kill Kakkarot!  
  
So he had settled himself into life on earth. His days consisted of only three things: Training, eating, and fucking.  
  
One of the very few redeemable things about this planet-other than the gravity room and the massive quantities of food provided to him-was Mrs. Briefs.  
  
The older, ditzy blonde woman had been coming on to him since he first moved in. Left unsatisfied in her marriage by Dr. Brief's impotency and refusal to use Viagra, she had turned to the closest available man to satisfy her desires. After a token resistance, Vegeta gladly gave in to her seduction, and started fucking the horny adulteress.  
  
He had learned shortly after that he wasn't the first younger man she had used in lieu of her husband-not that Vegeta cared. To him, she was just another piece of ass. But what had shocked him were the names of some of her previous lovers: Yamcha had been the first. He had been dating Bulma, and came over to the house frequently when the two were teenagers. Mrs. Briefs had begun eying him, and noticed that he seemed sexually frustrated- Bulma was too wily and virtuous to put out before marriage. So, Mrs. Briefs had suggested a little affair with the younger man, and he had eagerly jumped at the chance to have sex with someone so experienced.  
  
After Yamcha had finally managed to get Bulma in bed a few years later, he had reluctantly broken it off with Mrs. Briefs, knowing that they couldn't keep it secret much longer if they continued to see each other. Mrs. Briefs had accepted the loss, and moved on to another of her daughter's friends, Krillin. After growing bored with him, she had moved on to Master Roshi, Oolong, and finally, Tien.  
  
Then when Vegeta came along, she knew she had struck gold. So she nabbed onto him as quickly as she could, and they had been carrying on their affair under the noses of Bulma and Dr. Briefs for six months, and neither her husband, nor her daughter ever suspected anything.  
  
During that time, however, things became complicated. Sure, Vegeta loved it when Mrs. Briefs came out to the gravity room in order to "bring him his lunch," but in reality was just there to give him a quickie. But during those same six months, his encounters with her daughter, Bulma, had gone from few and far between to lengthy and often. And the more time he spent with Bulma, the more he wanted her. There was only one reason that he hadn't already seduced her and taken her to bed.  
  
He was fucking her mother.  
  
He knew instinctively that if Bulma ever got wind to what was going on between him and Mrs. Briefs, she would refuse to have anything to do with him. And Mrs. Briefs, for her part, wouldn't keep silent if he dumped her for her daughter. She had been getting very possessive of him lately, and keeping an eye on him whenever Bulma was around. She did her best to keep the two of them apart, but Bulma had been seeking him out more lately.  
  
He knew that she was attracted to him, and that made him want her even more.  
  
But her mother kept getting in the way.  
  
One night, as he lay in bed after having sex with her, Mrs. Briefs got up and put on her robe.  
  
Vegeta raised his eyebrow. "What are you doing?" he asked. Mrs. Briefs never got out of bed until well after dawn. She and her husband didn't share a room anymore, and no one would ever be so foolish as to risk their life by entering Vegeta's room unannounced, so they were safe to rendezvous in his room at night, then have her sneak back to her own room in the morning after everyone else was up.  
  
Mrs. Briefs turned to him, a serious expression on her face. The sad part was that her serious expression looked so comical that Vegeta nearly burst out laughing at the very sight of it.  
  
"Promise me you'll stay away from Bulma," she said.  
  
Vegeta frowned. "No one tells me what to do, Mrs. Briefs," he barked. Even though he took a great deal of pleasure in calling Bulma 'woman' to her face, he couldn't do the same with her mother. For some reason, he always called her Mrs. Briefs-even in bed!  
  
Mrs. Briefs had frowned then, and Vegeta had been shocked to see all the wrinkles and lines that appeared on her face, especially her forehead, reminding him of her age.  
  
"Promise me you'll stay away from her," she said again.  
  
This time it was Vegeta's turn to get out of bed and confront her, stark naked.  
  
"I will associate with-and fuck-whomever I wish," he growled, "Just because I'm fucking you doesn't allow you to order me around." He glared at her. "The Prince of all Saiyans takes orders from no one, least of all a whore like you!"  
  
Mrs. Briefs stiffened. "What would she think of you," she whispered, a devilish intelligence in her voice and eyes that belied her usual ditziness, "if she knew that you had been raping her mother for months, then forcing me to submit to you with threats to my person and my family?" She looked him straight in the eye as she said that.  
  
Vegeta stepped forward with a snarl. "You wouldn't!"  
  
Mrs. Briefs watched him smugly, confidant that she had won this particular battle. "Promise me."  
  
Vegeta bared his teeth. "Fine." He glared at her. "I promise not to seduce your daughter." He conveniently forgot to promise not to be receptive to any seduction attempts Bulma directed at him, however.  
  
Mrs. Briefs then nodded and let her robe fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles, as she advanced on him, lust written all over her features.  
  
But just as she was about to lean in for the kiss, Vegeta turned away from her and began to dress.  
  
"What are you doing?" It was Mrs. Briefs' turn to ask the question.  
  
"I'm going to train," Vegeta answered gruffly, yanking on his spandex shorts.  
  
Then he walked over to his private balcony, blasted off, and flew to the gravity room, leaving Mrs. Briefs standing naked in the center of his room, confused and alone.  
  
Exactly where Bulma found her two minutes later.  
  
A/N: I've had this idea for awhile, since I rented The Graduate a few weeks ago . and it just wouldn't go away! ^.^ So I finally got around to writing it . So please REVIEW . constructive criticism is always appreciated! ^.~  
  
Anywho, there won't be any Mrs. Briefs/Vegeta lemon (unless people . WANT to read that?!??! O.o), but there WILL be a B/V lemon later on. And I'm not sure exactly what's going to happen, but I've got ideas! ^.~  
  
Please Review!  
  
Love, Tina 


	2. Saiyan Graduate Chapter 2

Warning: Lots of angst, suggestions of rape, and a little bit of unintentional domestic violence  
  
The Saiyan Graduate: Chapter 2  
  
Bulma knocked softly on the door to Vegeta's room, attempting to quell the rising nervousness within her. What if he rejected her? What if she went in there, offering herself to him, and he turned away from her? What if he didn't want her? Or worse, what if he already had someone, secretly, and didn't even need her .  
  
Bulma shook her head. Not Vegeta! Where and when would Vegeta meet a girl, anyway? It's not like he ever went out or anything.  
  
So, wrapping her courage around her, Bulma knocked again on his door, louder.  
  
"Vegeta?" she called out softly. "Are you asleep?"  
  
Silence was the only answer received.  
  
Biting her lip and hoping that Vegeta wouldn't be too mad at her, she slowly turned the doorknob, silently opening his door.  
  
She just wanted to catch a glimpse of him in sleep. Honest! She'd just stand beside his bed, staring down at his peacefully dreaming face, maybe stroke his hair a few times, plant a kiss on his temple, and then leave.  
  
With plans to return tomorrow night, of course. At an earlier time, so she could catch him awake.  
  
Bulma couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when she had fallen in love with the Saiyan, but she knew the exact moment when the realization of her feelings for him had hit her.  
  
It had been shortly before her breakup with Yamcha, just over a month ago. There hadn't been any yelling or screaming, as there had been a lot lately when she was with Yamcha. He yelled at her about Vegeta-because he was jealous. And she yelled back. They fought about everything, even the smallest, most miniscule things that meant absolutely nothing to either of them. Their relationship had turned so sour that whenever he called or came over, she felt as though she couldn't breathe, and she desperately needed some air.  
  
The only thing keeping them together were the feelings they had once had for each other, and the longevity of their relationship. He was her first and only boyfriend! How could she completely discount that, even if she no longer loved him?  
  
That was when it hit her.  
  
She had just called Yamcha and told him to come over, because they needed to talk.  
  
She was going to break up with him, once and for all.  
  
And as she sat there, going over the words she would say to him in her head, she realized that she no longer loved him.  
  
She loved Vegeta, instead.  
  
It wasn't that her love for Vegeta had replaced what she had felt for Yamcha, not that at all. She had stopped loving Yamcha long ago, probably even before he died. But the love she'd had for him in her youth had made her feel obligated to continue their farce of a relationship, even though her feelings for him had died long ago.  
  
So as of late their relationship had been decaying around them, even as they struggled to hold on to each other. But they both knew that the end was close, looming over their heads.  
  
So when Vegeta moved in, her heart had been free, unburdened by love for Yamcha. And although the prince was incredibly antisocial, and the closest to a smile she could get out of him was a smirk, there was something about him that drew her to him, that lured her closer and made her ignore all the bright, yellow signs that shouted "DANGER!" She ignored all the warnings, and began her attempt to learn all she could about him.  
  
At first he was very reticent, cursing and acting rude towards her, as though he were trying to push her away. But he didn't know about Bulma Briefs, or her courage and determination. When she wanted something, she went after it, no matter what, and didn't stop until she got it.  
  
Actually, that sounded a lot like him, too, now that she thought of it.  
  
And soon she began to think of more things they had in common, similarities in their personalities, in their interests, anything that she could use to get closer to him. It became an obsession for her. She found herself waiting in the living room until well after midnight just to be there when he came in from an intense session of late-night training. Even though he was tired, and all he wanted was to get a late-night snack and go to bed, she'd talk to him.  
  
At first, he just grunted at her, and tried to push her away. But she persisted, and eventually got to the monosyllabic response stage, then the short phrase stage, and finally they managed to actually have their first ever actual conversation.  
  
It wasn't a very long conversation, but it was a conversation nonetheless. She had learned so much about him that night, from that one conversation.  
  
It was so late that she had nearly fallen asleep, curled up on the couch in the living room, waiting for Vegeta to come in. It had become a nightly ritual of theirs, he'd come in at exactly midnight and she'd start talking to him, and his response would depend on his mood. She'd follow him into the kitchen, where he'd grab a midnight snack that would have fed whole countries of people for days. She'd continue talking to him as he ate, and when he finished he would stop acknowledging her presence, and simply leave, going upstairs and closing his door-softly, so as not to wake her parents.  
  
But there was something different in the air tonight, she thought as the sound of footsteps entering through the sliding door on the far side of the living room woke her from her slumber.  
  
She yawned and stretched her limbs, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she looked up and saw him standing there, in only those cute spandex shorts that showed off his lean body to perfection, his muscular body leaking sweat, despite the soaked towel that lay across his shoulders.  
  
She saw him glance at her, wondering why she hadn't jumped up and started yapping at him yet. He had come to expect it from her, and since it was no skin off his back to tune her out as he went about his nightly routine, he had let her chatter to her heart's content. He had even found himself listening sometimes, and finding her words interesting.  
  
Bulma just smiled up at him, sleepily, and suddenly an odd expression flew across his face, as though he had been hit in the head with a brick or something.  
  
She cocked her head to the side as she pulled her feet out from under herself and stood up on shaky legs.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked. He looked as though he were about to vomit right there, staring at her with unseeing eyes.  
  
He shook his head and after a moment his usual fierce expression set into place, and he glared at her. "What's wrong is that you keep bugging me," he growled, and began walking towards the kitchen.  
  
Bulma fell into step beside him, a warmth filling her heart. That set-down wasn't nearly as harsh as the ones he usually gave her!  
  
"How did your training go today?" she asked as they entered the kitchen.  
  
Opening the refrigerator and sticking his head in, the only response he gave her was a single, noncommittal grunt, which Bulma took to mean as: "The usual."  
  
"Soooo ." Bulma sat in her chair at the table, patiently waiting for Vegeta to fix himself a snack and sit across from her, as usual. When he sat down with a sandwich on his plate piled higher than any of Dagwood's, ignoring her, she just smiled and began to talk about her day.  
  
".so then Yamcha and I went to the park, and-"  
  
Yep, that did it. As her boyfriend's name passed casually through her lips, Vegeta's head shot up, a burning fury in his eyes.  
  
Exultation roared through her veins as Bulma felt like leaping up and gloating, telling the whole world that Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, had a crush on her! After all, he wouldn't look so utterly jealous whenever she mentioned Yamcha if he didn't at least have some feelings for her.  
  
But even as she felt that, her heart began to sink. Looking into his eyes, into the rage that lay there just behind the surface, she suddenly felt like the lowest piece of scum. Was that what all this about? The reason she sought him out daily, tried to talk to him every chance she had? Was it all some stupid power game where she tried to toy with his heart? Because even though she was still with Yamcha, she wanted Vegeta to love her!  
  
Bulma bit her lip and looked into his eyes, apology written all across her face.  
  
"I . I'm sorry, Vegeta," she said, before glancing away. That black gaze of his was too much even for her to hold. "I . I'm such a bitch!" She placed her head in her hands, feeling the tears of self-loathing start to well up within her.  
  
How could she be so horrible as to try and manipulate his feelings towards her, when she could never return them?  
  
The next thing she knew, she felt strong arms hauling her up to her feet, and her face flew up to meet his gaze. He was even more furious than before.  
  
"Never apologize," he spat.  
  
Bulma blinked. "Wh-what?" she asked. Here she was, telling him that she was sorry for trying to manipulate him and hurt his feelings, and he was telling her that she shouldn't apologize? Even after everything she'd done to him?  
  
"Only the weak apologize." His black gaze, those powerful, hypnotic onyx eyes of his, burned into her. "You, Woman, are anything but weak. Vulgar, yes. Physically powerless, yes. But your will, Woman, is stronger than that of anyone else I've ever known." He smirked. "Myself excluded."  
  
She stared up at him with wide eyes, wondering to herself if she had fallen in love with him. Because if she hadn't already, she would soon. Especially if he kept talking sweet to her like that!  
  
"Who told you that?" she asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.  
  
"Told me what?" Yes, he was definitely in the mood for conversation. Tonight must be her lucky night!  
  
"Told you that only the weak apologize. Because it's not true at all," Bulma insisted. "Everyone makes mistakes. The cowards are the ones that don't own up to them. It takes a lot of courage to admit, to yourself and to others, that you were wrong." She met his confused eyes with a smile in hers. "And you, Prince Vegeta," she added softly, "Are anything but a coward."  
  
He seemed taken aback by the complement, as well as confused by the implications of her words. He scowled and then turned away from her and began pacing the room, his arms folded across his bare chest.  
  
"On Freeza's ship," he began, not looking at her and yet telling her more than she had ever hoped to know about his past, "those who apologized were killed. Those who made mistakes were killed, too." He finally looked up at her. "The only way to survive was to be sure to make absolutely no mistakes. Otherwise your life was worth nothing." The absolute hatred in his voice when he talked about Freeza chilled her to the bone. Had it really been that bad for him?  
  
Her heart went out for him, for the life and youth he had lost to that evil madman. To his people, killed by the same sociopath that had enslaved him. To the boy who had lost his future, who's entire life had been sculpted by the whims of one maniacal miscreant, set out to destroy him.  
  
And Freeza had destroyed him, in the worst way. He had destroyed his hopes and his dreams. He had destroyed his future.  
  
When Vegeta came to earth the first time, the only thing he wanted was immortality. And the reason he wanted that was so he could defeat Freeza. After that, she didn't think he had any plans. But Freeza had destroyed everything for him, leaving with only one thing to grasp at, one thing to reach for. Revenge.  
  
If not for Freeza, Vegeta would be a whole different person. A person still proud and arrogant, but capable of softer emotions. Emotions such as love.  
  
Bulma shivered and turned her thoughts to something else. What could she say after what he had told her, that wouldn't make herself sound like a total idiot, and make him leave the room without a backwards glance, thus ending their first ever conversation?  
  
"It's not like that here on earth," she said softly, looking down at her hands as the played with the hem of her shirt. She didn't think she could look at him right now, without him knowing exactly what she felt, exactly how she felt about him. "Here you can make mistakes, and it's ok. It won't cost you your life."  
  
"In a battle it will. A single mistake, a simple misjudging of one's opponent, or using the wrong attack, can cost a warrior not only the battle, but his life. If I go soft, start letting myself screw up like that Yam-cock bastard you're so fond of, then I'll die before the androids even get here," he growled.  
  
She looked up again, her cheeks stained with tears. "Don't think like that, Vegeta," she begged. "Going soft isn't as bad as you think! Caring for others isn't a weakness, it's a strength!" She let out a small sob before burying her face in her arms atop the table and weeping her heart out.  
  
He only let her cry for a few moments before he stormed over to her, yanked her head up painfully by the roots of her blue hair, then leaned down to her level so that his face was almost pressed against hers, and his eyes were so close she could barely focus on them. But she could feel the heat they radiated. And the rage.  
  
"Don't cry for me," he hissed. "Never shed a single fucking tear for me, Woman! I've done things in my lifetime that would make you retch. Do you think to blame it all on Freeza?" He shook his head at her, as though chastising a naughty child. "You think I didn't enjoy the purging? The killing?"  
  
Bulma trembled, trying to pull herself from his grasp. But he only tightened his hold on her hair, making her whimper with pain.  
  
He drew closer, his hot breath spilling over the side of her cheek and her neck as his lips drew closer to her ear.  
  
"Don't you ever wonder," he whispered softly, seductively, his tongue slithering out of his mouth to gently caress the lobe of her ear, making her shudder and squeeze her thighs together, denying the wetness that pooled between them. "If I don't just pillage, but rape as well?"  
  
To her eternal shame, his words didn't make her cringe from him in fear. They made her grow even hotter, wetter, her face flushing and her breasts swelling as her nipples hardened and her body prepared itself for him. The thought of having Vegeta on her, around her, inside her, made her squirm in her seat from desire. He ground his hard-on into the side of her hip, letting her know that he wanted her. That he could take her by force if he wanted to. She'd never thought of herself as one to have rape fantasies, but .  
  
If Vegeta took her now, here, on the kitchen table, she knew it wouldn't be rape.  
  
She wanted it just as much as he did.  
  
But just as she was about to tell him so, he drew away from her.  
  
And to her eternal shame and surprise, the monkey bastard was laughing at her!  
  
She stared at him, mouth agape. She'd never heard him laugh before. The sound was so wonderful, rumbling and deep, but with the same hint of huskiness that made his voice so sexy. But Bulma was too humiliated now to fully appreciate the fact that he was laughing. And she was the one that had made him laugh.  
  
Blushing hotly at her embarrassment, Bulma quickly turned away from him, hugging herself with her arms and pressing her thighs together, trying to quell the ache that had begun between them, and failing miserably.  
  
How could she want such a monster?  
  
"Silly girl," he smirked at her, still chuckling. "That's what 'caring for others' gets you," he mocked her phrasing from earlier. "A need so deep that only one person can fulfill it." His face suddenly fell into a serious expression, one that she could only label as 'calm insanity.' He walked slowly behind her, so that she could no longer see his face, and placed his hands on her shoulders, moving them towards her slender neck as he spoke.  
  
"A need that beckons to you in the black of night, making you weak." His hands slid around her neck as she sat there motionless, allowing him to do this. He needed to get it all out. And she needed to prove that she trusted him, in spite of his cruel words. She was the only one who could heal his broken soul.  
  
"A need that goes against everything you believe in, everything you've worked for your entire life." His head bent down until he was nuzzling the back of her ear, his words quieted to a whisper, even as his hands began to tighten around her neck.  
  
"A need that reminds you of everything that's gone wrong in your life, of everything you've lost, and everything that you will never have the chance to experience." She could feel her throat constricting under his hands, now. Her heart sped up and her breaths were shallower, quicker. She hoped he would stop soon-there was only so much trust she could place in him, after all.  
  
"A need," his sharp teeth bit down on her ear, hard, drawing blood, "that makes you go insane with lust, wanting nothing more than to take, and take, and to give nothing back." He lapped up the tiny stream of blood that fell from the wound he had inflicted, his hands growing tighter still around her neck, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.  
  
"A need," he finished with a whisper, burying his face in her sweet- smelling hair, "for the only person you can never have." His grip closed her windpipe completely, and even her gasps brought in no air. She began to panic, wondering if he planned to kill her right here, right now, just to prove a point. Wondering if he really cared for her at all, as she thought he had, or whether he would only shrug with annoyance when she died. But the sane, logical part of her mind remained, and cautioned her against making any sudden moves to try and escape-he could easily snap her neck without even trying. So she gently placed one of her hands on top of his, and began stroking the back of his hand. Letting him know the she trusted him not to kill her. That if his hands tightened any further, he would break the trust she had placed in him.  
  
With a violent roar of rage, he pulled his hands free of her and stormed out of the room, leaving the bulk of his unfinished sandwich sitting on the table as Bulma fell from her chair to the floor, taking in deep, shaky breaths as her hand massaged her aching, bruised throat.  
  
The only thought in her head-she refused to think about anything to do with Vegeta right now-was how she was going to explain the bruises around her neck to everyone the next day.  
  
She had confused everyone greatly when she insisted on wearing turtlenecks exclusively for the next week-in the middle of August.  
  
Everyone except Vegeta, that is.  
  
He knew there were bruises, he had to. And yet she hadn't gone crying to Goku about how he'd harmed her, she hadn't told anyone the truth. She had covered it up for him, saved him from acknowledging his mistake.  
  
He avoided her for the entire week, until the bruises left by his hands had faded and she started wearing her trademark revealing tank tops again.  
  
He caught her alone one evening as she sat curled up in a large, overstuffed armchair in the living room, reading her favorite book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She felt his presence before she even saw him, and lowered the book so that her eyes could peer at him from over the top.  
  
He frowned at her, then walked over and plucked the book from her hands, tossing it onto the couch as he resumed his infamous pose, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at her.  
  
The expression on his face was priceless, and made her wish she had a camera handy.  
  
The Prince of all Saiyans was confused!  
  
"Why did you do it?" he asked, jumping straight to the point.  
  
Bulma blinked at him. Now it was her turn to be confused. "Do what?" she asked innocently.  
  
He glared at her. "You could have told Kakkarot and all the other Z fucking senshi," he rasped. "They would have ganged up on me and killed me without mercy in a heartbeat for harming you." His hand reached out to brush against the smooth, unmarred skin of her neck. She didn't even flinch as she continued to stare into his eyes. "Why didn't you? Why did you . lie for me?"  
  
Bulma smiled at him and placed her hand over his, covering it and holding it against her throat. She could feel his fingers trembling against his skin, could see in his eyes that he remembered how perilously close he had come to strangling her, killing her. She knew that, for probably the first time in his life, he felt guilty about something. He realized that he had made a mistake and owed her an apology, but didn't know what to do about it.  
  
So she took it upon herself to teach him.  
  
"It has nothing to do with lying," she told him as her fingers began to stroke the back of his hand. His eyes closed and his body shuddered in ecstasy at her light touch. "It has to do with trust. I trust you."  
  
"How?" she could barely understand his thick, husky whisper. "How can you trust me? I nearly . I almost . Kami, I-"  
  
"Shh," Bulma whispered, her other hand reaching up to his arm and gently tugging. "It's ok. You almost did, but you didn't."  
  
In response to her tugging, he dropped his hand from her neck and fell to his knees in front of her and buried his face in her lap, his breathing shaky and uneven, as though he were on the verge of tears. Bulma let him lie there, gently stroking his hair, until he had composed himself enough to speak to her again.  
  
Lifting his head to look into her eyes, his hoarse voice asked again, "Why?"  
  
"Because you made a mistake," she answered simply. "Like I told you that night, we all make them. It's unavoidable. True strength doesn't lie in someone who never makes mistakes. True strength lies in someone who can pick themselves up and dust themselves off, and continue on after having made them. And besides, you're my friend." She grinned at him. "And it's a friend's duty to help clean you up after you've made a mistake, no matter how bad it may be." She shrugged. "It's as simple as that."  
  
He stared at her for long moment, unmoving, before shaking his head, a small smirk springing up on his face.  
  
"Crazy woman," he murmured, "You never cease to amaze me with that foolish human logic of yours."  
  
Bulma giggled, recognizing a complement when she heard one. "And you, Vegeta, owe me something."  
  
His head shot up, and for a moment she regretted her words, because the light-hearted, open, relieved Vegeta of a minute before was gone, replaced by his defensive shell, which she liked to call 'Bad-ass Vegeta.'  
  
"I owe you nothing, woman," he hissed, pulling away from her and standing up again, in an attempt to use his height to intimidate her.  
  
Bulma glared at him. "That's not what I meant, baka!" she told him, rising to her own feet and standing toe to toe, eye to eye, with the prince. "I meant that you owe me an apology!"  
  
He drew back, horrified. "An-an apology?" He nearly choked on the words.  
  
Serves him right, thinking he can get out of this! Bulma told herself. "That's right, an apology. It did hurt, you know! It hurt a lot." She rubbed her neck for emphasis. "It still kind of hurts, even though the bruises are gone. And besides, I covered for you! Don't you think the least you can do is give me two little words?"  
  
He glared at her before harrumphing and turning away, his arms folded across his chest. She heard him mumble something under his breath that sounded like, "I'm sorry."  
  
"What was that?" she asked, cupping a hand behind her ear. "I didn't hear you," she taunted in a sing-song voice.  
  
He turned back to glare at her again. "I said," he took a moment to prepare himself, "I'm-"  
  
"Vegeta!" Bulma and Vegeta both jumped at the sound of her mother's voice calling to him from the kitchen doorway. "I need you to help me get something down from the top shelf." The blonde ditz giggled. "I misplaced the step ladder and can't find it anywhere! Now, hurry, dear, I'm going to make your favorite, chopped liver and refried bean cakes!" She giggled again and disappeared back into the kitchen.  
  
Vegeta looked at Bulma for only a moment before turning around and entering the kitchen, but there was something different in his gaze after her mother's interruption. Something that seemed . sad, almost vulnerable. She worried about what could have done that to him.  
  
Damn her mother! She had the worst timing of anyone Bulma knew!  
  
But, despite her mother's interference, after that incident things returned to almost normal between Bulma and Vegeta. It seemed as though he had taken the proffered olive branch and decided that friendship with her wouldn't be too bad. He began to open up with her more, just a little bit, but even that much she latched onto with all the vigor of a lobster hanging onto its prey for dear life. Conversations were now a normal thing between them, and they grew longer and more involved with each passing day. And in spite of his antisocial exterior, Bulma had the feeling that Vegeta actually liked their conversations, maybe even looked forward to them!  
  
And so love had blossomed in Bulma's heart, and she had fallen head over heels for the mysterious Saiyan. On the outside he appeared to be just another jackass bent on revenge, obsessed with his single-minded goal. But on the inside, even the Saiyan Prince possessed a multi-faceted personality, one that fascinated her and made her love him. Because even after having his childhood ripped away by the ruthless Freeza, his future still had so much potential. If only she could get him to see that, to give up on his need to prove himself better than Goku.  
  
They had many a long, heated argument about the Saiyan boy she had known since childhood. Vegeta could do nothing but insult him, while Bulma did her best to defend her friend. And even though their opinions of him, and many other things, differed, their arguments, discussions, and conversations were the highlights of the day for both of them.  
  
And as the doorbell rang and Bulma rose from her seat to answer it and tell Yamcha the truth about her feelings for him, she couldn't help but wonder if a little love hadn't blossomed in Vegeta's heart, too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I must say that I'm shocked! No one wants to see a V/Mrs. B lemon!! Hehe. That would make me very sad if not for the fact that I wouldn't have written one anyway, since the very thought makes me want to puke up my blueberry pop-tarts and vanilla coke. But if someone else wants to write one . I probably wouldn't read it . but maybe I would, just to make myself squirm. ^.^;; I'm such a masochist!  
  
  
  
Once again, please, please PLEASE REVIEW!! Because I am a 'Review Tease,' and without reviews, well, I can't really be one, now can I? Thanks in advance for your lovely, constructive review! ^.~  
  
Love, Tina  
  
PS. Duo no Tsuin - I'd actually never noticed that about Mrs. B and my sis! ^.^;; Something tells me Sara's going to kill me when she reads that . But you see, there IS a difference! Mrs. B is just a lonely, neglected housewife, forced to seek out other men because her husband won't give her what she needs. Whereas my sister is just a plain old slut, and proud of it, too! ^.~ 


	3. Saiyan Graduate Chapter 3

The Saiyan Graduate: Chapter 3  
  
"Mom?" Bulma asked in confusion, "What are you doing here?"  
  
She'd finally gotten up the courage to open Vegeta's door to go in and check on the sleeping prince, only to find the rumpled bed empty, and her mom standing in the center of the room, naked.  
  
Bulma couldn't help the suspicions that immediately rose to the surface of her mind, but quickly shoved them aside.  
  
Her mom, and Vegeta? Absurd! Her mother was completely devoted to her father!  
  
"Oh, dear, what are you doing in my room?" Mrs. Briefs asked.  
  
Bulma blinked. "Your room?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Bulma stared at her mother for a minute. "But, Mom, this is Vegeta's room."  
  
Mrs. Briefs looked around before putting her hand over her mouth and giggling. "So it is! Silly me! I must have come to the wrong room! I wondered why the bed seemed a little lumpier than usual."  
  
"O-kay." If it had been anyone else, Bulma surely wouldn't have believed it. But, seeing as how there were precedents for her mom doing this things, such as the time she had accidentally wandered into Yamcha's room years ago when he had lived with them for a short while, she wasn't surprised. After all, the ditziest woman in the universe was entitled to make a few mistakes now and then.  
  
"Well, you'd better go back to your own room now, Mom." Bulma folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorway. "I'll walk you there to make sure you don't get lost."  
  
Mrs. Briefs blushed and picked her robe up from the floor, putting it back on. She then turned around and took a good look at her daughter, who was dressed in a very skimpy negligee that revealed far too much skin, especially around the bosom and leg areas.  
  
"Oh, that reminds me, what are you doing here, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked pointedly.  
  
Bulma blinked, then blushed. "I, er, umm, what I mean to say is ."  
  
Mrs. Briefs frowned. "You should stay away from that Vegeta!" she exclaimed, a little too harshly.  
  
Bulma was taken aback. Wasn't her mother the one who was always singing Vegeta's praises, about how nice and sweet he was, in spite of the obvious fact that he was neither nice nor sweet. "Mom! I'm not with Vegeta! It's only been a month since I broke up with Yamcha, I need a little 'me time' before I go jumping into another relationship." She felt guilty about lying right to her mother's face, but the alternative would have made her feel a whole lot guiltier.  
  
"Dear," Mrs. Briefs began, walking up to her daughter and placing her hands on Bulma's shoulders, "I wasn't suggestion an emotional relationship, if you know what I mean."  
  
Bulma blushed. "Mother!" she exclaimed, extremely embarrassed that her mother would suggest such a thing-even though it was true!  
  
"I've lived a lot longer than you have, dear, and I know the games men play! I just don't want to see you with a broken heart." She patted her daughter's cheek. "Now let's go to my room and have a slumber party, hmm? Just like we used to in the old days!" Mrs. Briefs giggled. "A mother- daughter slumber party!"  
  
Left with no choice but to accompany her mom and have a 'slumber party' with her, Bulma did just that, reluctantly closing the door to Vegeta's room on her way out.  
  
She could think of a whole lot of things she'd rather be doing than listen to her mother prattle on about flowers and cooking.  
  
So, as her mother continued to chatter, Bulma zoned her out and recalled her breakup with Yamcha.  
  
She was still reeling from the discovery that she was in love with Vegeta as she opened the door to let her boyfriend-soon to be ex-boyfriend-in. There small talk was polite, yet pointless; their silences, awkward. They both knew exactly what was coming, but neither had the courage to just come out and say it.  
  
Finally, Bulma couldn't take it anymore, and burst out, "Yamcha, we need to break up."  
  
He stared at her for a moment before nodding. "I-I thought that's what you'd say." He looked her in the eye. "You're sure."  
  
Bulma nodded and looked away. "Yes, I'm sure."  
  
"Then I guess I'll be going."  
  
As Yamcha stood up and prepared to let himself out, Bulma rushed to him, catching his arm in her hand.  
  
"Yamcha, wait, I-"  
  
He turned back to her. "What is it, Bulma?"  
  
"I ." she looked away. She hadn't thought it would be this painful, letting go. She wasn't even in love with him anymore! She had already given her love to another man, and yet, a part of her still wanted what she'd had with Yamcha to last. A part of her didn't want to let him go. "Can we still be friends?" She asked finally.  
  
Yamcha turned away from her then. "I don't know if I can, Bulma."  
  
The pain in his voice was unmistakable, and Bulma was shocked. She'd thought that he had fallen out of love with her, too! But apparently his feelings were still involved.  
  
"Yamcha, you don't still ."  
  
He gave her a sharp nod. "I do."  
  
Bulma took her hand from his arm as though it burned her, and hugged herself, turning sharply away from him. "I thought you had fallen out of love with me, too."  
  
"Well I didn't." His voice was harsh as he turned her around to face him. "Who is he?" he asked. "Who is it that took my place?" He glared at her. "Is it Vegeta?" he asked with a sneer.  
  
Bulma took a step back, shocked. What had brought this on? "No, Yamcha, it's nothing like that! There isn't anyone else, no one has taken your place."  
  
He snorted. "You expect me to believe that? You're just proving yourself to be what you were all along, Bulma. A whore," he spat.  
  
That did it. Bulma reeled back her arm and slapped him.  
  
Yamcha staggered back from the force of the blow-for a human woman, she was incredibly strong when angered! With one final, angry glare at her, he left, fondling his wounded cheek.  
  
Bulma felt the tears threatening to flow, but quickly fought them back. She wouldn't cry about him! Not someone who, after so many years, could go and call her names like that! She still had her pride, and no matter what words he used in an attempt to defile her name, she refused to give in!  
  
Even though her heart felt as though it were aching and bruised .  
  
As she turned to go up to her room in order to brood over what had just happened, and what was to come, she stopped short upon seeing a lone figure silhouetted in the doorway.  
  
"Vegeta," she whispered.  
  
She wondered how much he'd seen . and why he was standing there, looking like that.  
  
That expression on his face . it look as if he were struggling to understand something, but couldn't quite get it, no matter how much he thought about it.  
  
And he was looking straight at her .  
  
Bulma blinked. "Vegeta?" she asked, taking a step towards him. "What are you doing here?"  
  
His expression vanished, his features what again set in that blank, emotionless visage that he loved to present.  
  
"Why did you do it, woman?" he asked softly.  
  
Bulma blinked. If nothing else, Vegeta certainly was an enigma! She could never figure out his motives behind anything, be they actions or words. Well, anything that didn't deal with training or Goku, that is.  
  
"Well, I did it because ." Bulma shrugged. "I just don't love him anymore."  
  
She looked him straight in the eye. She wasn't ready yet to convince the truth about where her affections had turned; she'd just realized herself what was going on, that she had already fallen hard for the mysterious Saiyan Prince. But she still didn't know how he felt about her, or even if he felt anything about her at all. So she stood, waiting for his reaction.  
  
After a moment of contemplation over her words, Vegeta walked forward until mere inches separated their bodies.  
  
"Why don't you?" he asked simply.  
  
By this time they had grown very close, or so Bulma thought. She had managed to get him to open up a little about his past, and she herself had opened up to him a great deal, telling him all about her teenage adventures with Goku and the others, and sometimes about her relationship with Yamcha. Although he always changed the subject when she brought up her ex- boyfriend, she still managed to get him to talk to her, a feat she was pretty sure was unprecedented.  
  
Vegeta was a pretty antisocial guy.  
  
But because of their recent history, he would have no qualms about completely dissecting her actions, and telling her exactly how stupid she'd been to give up the one stable relationship she'd ever had. Even though he disliked Yamcha, she knew that he'd be laughing all over her for her stupidity in ending such a long-lasting relationship. After all, Vegeta didn't believe in love; how could he possibly understand how important it was to her? She'd tried to explain it to him, the concept that he referred to, condescendingly, as 'affection,' but he just couldn't seem to grasp it. He couldn't understand why two beings would align themselves together for such a mundane, pointless reason as 'feelings.'  
  
So how could he possibly understand what she had to say?  
  
Bulma shrugged. "I don't know, I guess . well, I guess I just fell out of love with him."  
  
Vegeta frowned. "But you told me this 'love' thing that you humans are so fond of was supposed to last forever."  
  
"It is."  
  
"Then why didn't it?"  
  
Bulma felt as though she were floundering, grasping at straws for an answer that would satisfy the Saiyan Prince's curiosity. "I don't know, I mean, it doesn't always."  
  
"Then why is it so highly prized among humans, if it's expendable? I'm not stupid, I've seen you burst into tears after an argument with the baka weakling," he growled, as though ashamed of her weakness. "Yet you continue to pursue this pointless goal, trying to find 'love.'" He shook his head. "Baka humans."  
  
Bulma sighed and tried to think of a way to explain it to him. "It . it might seem very primitive to someone like you, who lives a life devoid of emotion," she told him, "but to us humans, love is everything. Sure, it doesn't always work out, and sometimes it can be very painful, especially if it's unrequited, but the rewards of love ." she smiled at him, letting all the love in her heart show for just a moment before she pulled it back inside herself, "The reward of loving someone and receiving their love in return is priceless."  
  
He stared at her unnervingly, making her fidget beneath his gaze, before closing the gap between them and taking her face in his hands.  
  
Her heart nearly pounded itself through her chest, and her eyes widened, staring up at him. The look on his face . he looked so confused, and yet there was something else behind it. It was as though he needed her, more than anything else. As though he needed her right now.  
  
Bulma closed her eyes. She knew he was going to kiss her, and although a part of her was scared about what this would mean for their relationship, another part of her thrilled that he had feelings for her, too. He just didn't understand them.  
  
But just because a person doesn't know anything about emotion or feelings, and doesn't understand them, doesn't mean that they don't have them. That they don't feel just as deeply as everyone else. That they can't cry if the situation calls for it. That they can't love if given the golden opportunity.  
  
So she lifted her face, waiting for his mouth to brush against hers. Somehow she knew he would be tender with her, gentle. He would never hurt her, and would keep himself and his power in check around her at all costs. And more than anything, he would protect her with his life.  
  
But, alas, Bulma's waiting was in vain.  
  
The kiss never came.  
  
Just as she felt his breath drawing closer, his lips moving at an achingly slow pace towards her, they were interrupted, once again, by her mother.  
  
"Bulma!" Mrs. Briefs called as Bulma and Vegeta guiltily jumped apart. "I need to talk with you about something! Will you come here a minute, dear?"  
  
With a heavy sigh and one last look back at Vegeta, whose face wore a stony expression now as he refused to meet her eyes, Bulma went off to talk to her mother. About flowers or something else totally unimportant, that she couldn't even remember an hour later as she lay in her bed daydreaming about how wonderful it would be to kiss Vegeta.  
  
"It's night-night time, Bulma!" Mrs. Briefs declared with a giggle.  
  
Abruptly pulled back from her reminiscences by her mother's announcement that it was time for them to go to bed, Bulma smiled. In her dreams, she could kiss Vegeta all she wanted. And they often ended up doing more than just kissing! Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night touching herself because her dream had been so racy that her body's arousal woke her up. Although the sensations were pleasant, she would have much preferred the real thing. His hard body on top of hers, his lips caressing her cheek, his erection pressing into her thigh, then going in between her legs and-  
  
Bulma shook her head, trying to shake away her dirty thoughts. You nasty hentai! She accused herself. Stop thinking of him like that! Especially with your mother around! Her mom was looking at her expectantly, waiting for Bulma to get in the other side of the queen size bed. Pulling back the covers, Bulma crawled into her side as her mother climbed onto the other side.  
  
"Good night, Bulma dear," her mother said as she turned off the bedside lamp, removing all vestige of light from the room.  
  
With a soft sigh, Bulma burrowed under the covers and snuggled against her pillows. She just hoped that she didn't have an erotic dream tonight; what if she moaned out Vegeta's name in her sleep? Then her mother would know exactly what was going on with her thoughts and feelings! She wouldn't dare embarrass herself like that, especially not in front of her mother.  
  
But just as she was about to enter the land of the numbered sheep, she heard a faint creak, and a small sliver of light that invaded the room began to grow larger as someone softly opened the door to her mom's room.  
  
Bulma panicked, wondering if it might be a burglar, or her father coming in to claim some "conjugal rights." That would certainly be an awkward situation, with her lying in bed next to her mother!  
  
But the silhouette framed in the doorway, illuminated by the light from the hallway, was a familiar one. A short man, wearing nothing but spandex shorts, crowned by a flame-like upsweep of hair.  
  
Vegeta.  
  
The identity of the intruder confirmed, only one question remained in Bulma's mind: What was he doing, coming into her mother's room in the middle of the night?  
  
A/N: Uh oh! Is Bulma about to find out the unpalatable truth about the secret relationship between her mom and Vegeta? Or will Mrs. Briefs be able to dissuade her assumptions yet again?  
  
Also, if someone would like to help me out a whole lot by beta-reading this fic for me (and especially helping me improve the first chapter .), I'd really appreciate it! I honestly have no idea where to go to look for a beta-reader, so if you're interested, please email me. I'll be forever grateful! ^.^  
  
Love, Tina (tinagovernment@hotmail.com) 


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